Traditions
by kasieli
Summary: Some Christmas traditions can be quite...odd, but it doesn't mean that Damian and Raven can't participate in a few. From an OTP holiday prompt list I found. And used quite appropriately on DamianxRaven, might I add. Happy holidays, lovelies!


A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS, dear readers! In case you don't know, there's going to be an artwork that goes along with this, so look out for that! (Maybe...set the scene, spoil a little)

I got this from a Christmas OTP prompt list somewhere that I can't seem to find, but it's easy to describe: Person A forces B under a mistletoe and is like "Look what's here?" or something like that. It's an easy guess to know what's gonna happen, I know. But that's the fun in writing it! Damian having a plan in everything he does is also a reoccurring thing **bookaholicpt** and I seem to headcanon (you'll see what I mean in this).

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I don't make money yah dah yah dah yah dah.

Anyways, please enjoy!

* * *

"Hmm...presents, such a commercialized tradition, don't you agree?" Raven heard a voice ask from somewhere behind her. But close. _Startlingly_ close.

She spun around fast, clumsily dropping the present she was rearranging under the Teen Titans' oversized, over-decked out Christmas tree from her hands. But even though that betrayed her calm, cool composure, she was able to get the words out of her mouth without any trouble. "Well, they say giving is a good thing," she replied simply, turning to him after she picked up the present and placed it carefully under the tree. It was _his_ present, after all.

As she leveled him, she looked into his smirking eyes, trying not to notice how well the forest green sweater he wore complimented their color.

His eyebrow raised. "We can give on any other given day, what's so special about the tradition of wasting money on a lot of people for one day?" He crossed his arms at his chest.

"Don't ask me," she scoffed, mirroring his movement, "I didn't come up with these traditions."

"True," he spoke, drawing out the word as his eyes darted around the room. "Hmm...speaking about traditions, Americans have some... _odd_ traditions for this season, don't you agree?" He motioned vaguely to the direction of the twinkling Christmas tree. "So many decorations..."

Raven hated that he stopped looking at her because then she was forced to focus on how soft that sweater looked and how well it seemed to wrap around his torso. Sure, she could have looked around the room like he had, been distracted by the lights and wreathes and bells seemingly in every corner of their common room, but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of him. It was like he was a goddamn magnet. Easy for someone with that kind of figure.

The weight of his stare was enough to drag her back into reality as she sheepishly met his eyes after staring maybe a little far too long at the muscles in his forearms that were exposed by his rolled up sleeves. She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice level. "Yeah, I agree," she murmured aimlessly. "Some are weird, but some are quite sweet."

"Oh, really? Like what?"

Raven didn't realize it at first. At first, all she noticed was that he was that much closer to her. Close enough that she couldn't see that forest green sweater anymore because all she could see was the glint of gold in his irises and the piece of hair at his widow's peak that stuck out of place. He was the only one that knew all her weak points to disrupt her stoic composure. Knowledge, it was safe to say, he was using at this exact second.

Damian was seriously invading her personal space. Why was he invading her personal space?

"C-caroling is quite sweet, I think," she found herself answering as a foot drew backwards underneath her.

He clicked his tongue. "I didn't particularly peg you as the singing type, Raven. Although I _have_ heard you carry a tune. You're quite good at it."

He had taken another step forward in the process, making her take another step back. She wasn't sure why he was doing so, she wasn't even sure if it was completely intentional. (Although knowing him, it probably _was_.) She was only sure that if she stayed put, he would have bumped into her, and that was certainly not something her already frazzled composure could handle. Maybe he was just trying to reach something from behind her. Perhaps? Maybe? It wasn't like it was threatening, anyway. If he kept walking towards her, she could just keep walking back. Problem solved. But she sensed something sly in his prowess and the smirk to his lips. And part of her wanted to know what it was.

He was that much closer to her again, and she winced, her breath hitching at her throat, as she took another step back.

"I said it was sweet, I didn't say I'd do it," she huffed.

"Point taken," he nodded. He breathed slow as his eyes scanned the room once again. "Some are quite romantic, too, don't you think?"

It was hard for her to focus on her mantra and breathing when he was there, smirking at her with that lopsided grin of his and his eyes looking like gold in the warm light supplied by the ample decorative lighting. Great, she couldn't concentrate, and now, she even found it hard to breathe. How could someone make her so...vulnerable?

"How...how so?"

He took a few silent seconds to himself, his eyes lost in deliberate thought.

"I believe it is called the 'mistletoe'?" he questioned in a _barely_ innocent voice. "That is where…"

His voice trailed off in a sort of contemplation as he brought his lower lip between his teeth. She didn't have time to think about how nice she thought his lips were, not right now. But they were, such a graceful arch to his top lip and the... _no_ , she couldn't. Even though they really, truly, were – _Raven, stop._ She chastised. Azar, she had to do _something_ before her mind began to wander there. _Again_.

She found herself hastily finishing his words. "If two people found themselves underneath it, they'd have to kiss." _Crap._ She walked herself right into that one.

She breathed slowly, trying to ignore the pulse in her ears that seemed to have gotten exponentially louder in the past couple minutes. She hoped her confusion wasn't drawn all over her face, but at this point, she didn't even know if she could control it.

"Ah, yes," he sighed, "that one."

It was a lot closer than she had first assumed. As her back hit the wall, she wondered how long the distance was, being it barely felt like she had walked at all. Then again, her legs felt like jello and as if she didn't have control over them anymore. They had seemed to be moving without her acknowledgement, and before she knew it, they had successfully taken her to the wall.

He spoke again and his soft voice did nothing to soothe her already frayed nerves, "I've always thought that one was rather romantic. I've been curious to test my hypothesis of just how romantic it could be."

She furrowed her eyebrows, choking on her words before something sensible came out. "I..uh….what?" If that could even be called _sensible_.

Tilting his head, he flashed another one of those lopsided grins, emphasizing the dimple on his cheek. Raven's heart sped up.

"Look up."

She obeyed, and her eyes widened.

"I-It's a…," she gasped.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," he chuckled, shaking his head as if it were a goddamn _surprise_. (Which, by the way, she was positive _wasn't_.) "Well if it's tradition, we have to kiss, don't we?"

She pouted, "W-what about stupid traditions, huh?" Her fingers bit into the wall behind her, desperately trying to latch onto something before her knees gave out underneath her. Then again, they also felt clammy and slippery and weak and even if her knees buckled underneath her, she was sure they wouldn't be the one to catch her.

"I may have said they were stupid, but I never said I wouldn't participate in a few," he replied. Damian, on his part, was doing a wonderful job of keeping his arms crossed strongly at his chest and his face calm except for that smirk.

The answer found its way to her lips in a hurry that embarrassed her. "Oh, is that so?"

She felt a wave of apprehension wash over her, and she found herself trembling. Just the possibility of feeling those lips against hers caused havoc in her mind, like that wave was a tsunami, destroying every bit of sanity she had managed to build. She never wanted to kiss anyone so god damn badly, and here Damian was, basically taunting her to, _teasing_ her, and yet she had no idea what to say or how to respond or even how to initiate the god damn kiss.

She never did this before, after all.

Not just the mistletoe part, but the whole... _kissing_ thing, too.

"So what's it going to be, Raven? To follow in the footsteps of stupid holiday traditions, or not?"

If she wasn't so nervous she would have actually chuckled. Except, since she was, she managed a shaky, trembling laugh. "You're the one that cornered me to a mistletoe, and now you're asking permission to kiss me?"

He shrugged off her question nonchalantly. "Perhaps, but I'm still a decent human being. I'm not going to force you into doing something you don't want to do..." His eyes latched to her shoulders as his eyebrows furrowed, "are you cold, by the way?" He drew both his hands to steady her. "You're trembling."

Raven stiffened by the contact. "No I-I'm...I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure?" He asked with a subtle frown. "I could get you a sweater..." With a dawn of realization rising on his face, he took a step back and let go of her shoulders, "Oh, if I'm making you uncomfortable, you could have told me."

She found herself reaching out to him and latching onto that form-fitting, forest green turtleneck. Freaking magnet, he was.

"No, it's not that," she shook her head, "well, it is, but not like that. I mean...I…just...don't go."

His foot drew back underneath him, forcing her to collide with the wall once again.

"What's that now?" he breathed, tilting his head down so that pesky piece of hair that was out of place brushed against her forehead.

He was even that much closer to her, where her once outstretched arms were now cramped in the little space between them. Her eyes darted down and latched onto something, _anything_ but his face. The pulse in her ears was threatening to make her deaf now, she was sure of it.

She sighed slowly. "I'm just...nervous." The trembling found its way into her voice, but she didn't care anymore.

"Look at me, Raven." His gentle caress found her chin as his hand cupped it and she was staring at his eyes. Goddamn, he was so so _so_ beautiful at this proximity. She hated that she liked it that he did that. There was just something so corny but classy and tempting about the way his thumb brushed over her lips as he simply stared at them.

"If it makes you feel any better," he added. "I'm nervous, too."

She scoffed. "Damian Wayne? Nervous? Nooooooo."

She chuckled at his current embarrassed, vulnerable expression. Damian _rarely_ grew vulnerable. The times he did, she knew to always treasure them. Just for future reference.

"I swear, sometimes the team seems to think I'm some sort of robot or immune to emotions. While I'm not opposed to the accusation, I'm still allowed to be nervous if I'm about to kiss someone I've wanted to kiss for a while." Sometimes, when he was nervous ( _future references coming in handy_ , she laughed), she learned that Damian tended to blabber and just talk. This was definitely one of those moments, he, soon, too realized as his eyes widened at the end of the sentence, and his face flushed a deep red.

"Crap," he mumbled, looking away.

Raven's own boiling apprehension reduced itself to a simmer as she watched him blush. A blush and a confession? Damian surely _was_ nervous. Probably just as nervous as her. Maybe even _more_. The thought was oddly...comforting.

"You know," she leaned in close, her eyelashes brushing his cheek, "if you wanted to kiss me, you could have just asked anytime, really. No need for this mistletoe crap."

She felt him chuckle by the small release of breath and a soft vibration in his throat. "I prefer to have a plan."

"Plans, plans, plans. One day, it's not going to work out for you, bird boy."

Both his hands found her cheeks, and she never felt more secure than she did right then and there, with his hands and his warmth and everything about him caressing her.

"But that's not tonight, now, is it?"

Before she could reply, his lips closed over hers, those wonderful lips, and while it may have been unspoken, she was sure that his hypothesis was tried and tested and true — the mistletoe _was_ as romantic as it promised to be.

Her lips moved with his, a small smile forming on her lips, and she thought maybe these stupid Christmas traditions maybe weren't so stupid, after all. Some of the best presents just happened to be, maybe...influenced by these so-called commercial traditions, and not the materialistic things resting under the Titans' Christmas tree.

And, she had to admit it, the mistletoe was definitely a tradition she _could_ get used to.

* * *

A/N: Merry Christmas to those of you that celebrate it, and happy holidays! I hope you guys find some lucky candidates for the mistletoe, too *wink, wink*. I hope you all enjoyed it!

Until next time,

Cass


End file.
